


432. Sick of being used

by tveckling



Series: Dare to Write challenge [51]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, High Chaos, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Messed up Corvo, Mute!Corvo - Freeform, Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 13:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11419110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: Go here, do that, kill them, no, don't do that,on and on and on. Orders, all the time, as though he doesn't have a will of his own. If he were able to talk Corvo would have put them all in their place by now, but since he doesn't, and none of them has ever even entertained the thought of learning sign language, there is no easy way of communicating. Instead Corvo grits his teeth and let the so called loyalists' words fall into one ear and out the other. If they only have an inkling of the things he imagine doing to them in the silence of his own mind.





	432. Sick of being used

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kecchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kecchan/gifts).



_Go here, do that, kill them, no, don't do that,_ on and on and on. Orders, all the time, as though he doesn't have a will of his own. If he were able to talk Corvo would have put them all in their place by now, but since he doesn't, and none of them has ever even entertained the thought of learning sign language, there is no easy way of communicating. Instead Corvo grits his teeth and let the so called loyalists' words fall into one ear and out the other. If they only have an inkling of the things he imagine doing to them in the silence of his own mind.

Samuel, good old Samuel, is the only one who seems to know the darkness and violence that lies right beneath Corvo's skin. The old man is good at hiding it, but Corvo can see how he grows more and more nervous when they spend any time together. He's the one closest to the action, the only one who can hear the screams from when Corvo hunts—it makes sense that he is growing scared.

If only the others have the same instincts. Then maybe Corvo wouldn't be dreaming of killing them in more and more colorful ways, every time he is sent on a mission or returns from one.

The anger keeps boiling beneath his skin, though. Jessamine was his employer, his Empress, the one who could command him, but she never did. She talked with him as with any other person, she learned how to speak with him in a way that was easiest for him, and she cared for him. She never needed to command; he would have done anything for her.

These loyalists, the Admiral and the Overseer and the noble, they don't care. They celebrate his achievements as though it is theirs, and they only speak to him. He wonders if they think him stupid because he is unable to talk. Many times in the past he has experienced that idea, and it never failed to grate on his nerves before, nor does it now. Without Jessamine or Emily near, with only the guilt and the grief and the incredible rage, he lets his feelings simmer even as they grow stronger and seek outlets.

Soon he has to admit that he can't hold back any longer.

Since he still needs the loyalists and their information Corvo can't allow himself to kill then, so he takes his rage out on those he meets while he hunts. Instead of clean cut deaths he takes his time. He picks a lone person and starts carving them up, sometimes making sure they are unable to run, other times enjoying a little chase. Their screams give him such joy, and he likes the fear in their eyes and the way the blood runs.

Not all are fun to hunt, though. He can see fear in the guards' eyes, but most of them hold their ground and tries to fight him while yelling for backup. The most enjoyment he gets from them is when he cuts out their tongues. When he carves into their bodies they try to scream, but fail to make anything but stumped noises that are easily swept away by the natural city sounds. He quickly grows to love their helplessness.

It helps to deal with the annoyances back at the Hound Pits, and sometimes he can even bring himself to smile as he imagines cutting out Martin's tongue or cutting off Havelock's arms and legs. Neither would be able to lecture at him any longer. He wonders how far Pendleton would be able to run, the coward, before Corvo grows tired of him and ends the chase. He wonders how much they'd all scream.

Then comes the moment that finally seal their fates. The betrayal. The attempted murder.

Corvo can't blame them; he knows what he is. But he can't also forgive them, and even as Samuel explains the situation Corvo is willing himself to survive. He won't allow himself to die, not then, not yet, not before he has punished the traitors. They will suffer, he swears into the Void, and when the Outsider's smile meets him he knows someone has heard.


End file.
